A hard stop and then the garage.
Field Notes 20260711 - Saturday
Yesterday’s setup, today’s question. Resting in F18 I cast a small variation on the last query, rolled over for threshold passes, and got the cleanest waking-to-projection traversal I’ve logged in a while: no dreamy qualia, no gap, just a hard stop and then the garage. And an orange glow that shouldn’t have been there.
Today’s Field Notes illustration:
The glow from the garage. An original composition in ink and warm wash: a sunlit hallway, open bedroom doors, an arched mirror holding potted plants, framed pictures catching the wall’s angle, a bench in shadow, and at the far end a doorway spilling evening-orange light across the tile in long rays. Two kinds of light in one house, morning everywhere except where it isn’t. The image speaks to the discrepancy that ended the projection, the detail that turned observation back into interrogation.
Afternoon
Meditation
- 40 minutes.
- Tom Campbell’s binaural beats, 128-64.
The gist of it is that I repeated the same session from yesterday. I mean, essentially. Same setup and same process with a slightly different query cast when resting in F18 (heart energy). The query was as follows: “Show me what the field looks like when I stop contesting it.”
The question itself is a variation of the one I cast yesterday, the emphasis changed to observation of the actual threshold rather than receiving the feeling of the state. The meditation was quiet, much like yesterday’s, and did produce rolling, rumbling, and deep vibrations toward the end, furthering my commitment to a more neutral and natural altered-state transition practice as of late.
After I set my stuff to the side, I rolled over for a couple threshold-hunting passes. The first pass, as usual, had more data for me. I was tired enough for a nap but also needed to gently guide myself to the threshold as the process wanted a little push.
In this situation, I normally default to starting up a loose visualization loop and a “mantra” of some kind. Honestly, the content of the visualization doesn’t matter. Pick your favorite topic and run with it. It can be about woodworking or basketweaving, something raunchy, something boring, just as long as it’s familiar enough to construct and let run on its own after a bit of hand-holding.
For the mantra, I like to use William Buhlman’s “now I am out of my body.” It’s not a magic phrase that will shoot you out of your physical self and into a whimsical realm of astral unicorns (sorry), it takes a little bit of time for the subconscious to recognize that you mean what you say/think. This is essentially true in waking life as well, keep that in mind, the subconscious is always listening and adjusting your total experience of reality (altered states and mundane life included).
I let the visualization run and loosely held the mantra, little by little I withdrew my active awareness from both. Within a few minutes I was observing a dreamy stream of moving images and the mantra itself was a faint echo. At this point I felt my body wobbling. Imagine floating on the surface of a still lake, a boat passes by in the distance, generating waves, and by the time the waves reach you, they are gentle and rhythmic.
The gentle and rhythmic waves began to change their signature to a more robust and steady, but still mild, hum. Without any warning, everything stopped, the running visualization was dropped from my view, and for a couple seconds there was nothing at all: stillness, black void, nothing. The mechanical sound machine that is always on during my sessions also abruptly stopped producing noise — of course it didn’t stop, my perception of it did. I was completely out of my physical environment and held in that state just long enough to register the before and after, simply observing as I have been this whole time.
And just like that, I was standing in my garage gym/shop. High fidelity, 1:1 with waking experience. I didn’t need to check what state I was in, I knew, I literally just traversed: lying on my side on the office daybed, running a visualization, abrupt stop and suspension of all physical sensation, standing in the garage.
There is no dreamy qualia to be had at all in this state. I had just witnessed my progression from waking state, to threshold, to operating in a projection. I walked into the house and of course it was empty, it shouldn’t be if I was experiencing the physical state, but sure enough it was the same brightly-lit-by-natural-light house that I live in… just not in the frequency where everyone else was conscious.
I walked by the office, the kids’ room, looked at the living room and saw the sun’s rays pouring into the space. I absolutely love it when I project here. I then turned around and looked back at the garage gym entrance. A soft orange glow was coming from the space, like the LED lights in the rafters were already on and it was evening time. I thought that was odd, the whole house is flooded with bright morning light — and that’s when I was yanked backwards.
I watched the garage entrance, still glowing orange, recede into the distance as I was pulled faster and faster in the opposite direction. Tunnel vision. “Wait, I’m in a tunnel again, well this is different,” I thought. Within moments, I was deposited gently onto my office daybed, clicking into my physical body.
What ended it, I think, was the discrepancy itself. The house was lit by morning sunlight, yet the garage held the orange LED glow of evening — and noticing that was itself an interrogation. I was contesting the field again. What I don’t know is whether noticing it stopped the projection, or whether I noticed it because it was the final sequence of the demonstration.
